


he'll be home soon

by myrifique



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-01 15:54:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6526531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrifique/pseuds/myrifique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael leaves for a long undercover assignment. Rafael doesn't miss him, not even a little bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	he'll be home soon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blueteak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueteak/gifts).



> Happy ShipSwap, blueteak! I thought your letter was awesome and was very glad to be assigned to write some Jane OT4 for you. Hope you enjoy! And many thanks to my usual beta.
> 
> This is set about a year after the current events in the show (around 2x16), but there are no spoilers. Unless you tell me that these four characters are going to move in together to raise the kids in the next couple of episodes, then yes, it's definitely spoiling that. (A girl can dream.)

"I'm not saying I don't miss him," said Rafael. He had visited Petra in her office for some business reason, but that excuse was now long forgotten. "But if he was here, I wouldn't have had two ladies sharing the best part of me yesterday, now would I?"

"You might have had two ladies and a guy, though," Petra pointed out.

"No, because he probably would have gotten distracted midway by your womanly wiles," says Rafael.

"Oh, yeah," said Petra, looking in the distance, a dreamy smile on her lips. "He would have."

"I am right here," Rafael said, and he approached her, trapping her against the wall, trying to make her forget about their absent fourth. "Ready to submit to your every whim. Probably in much more imaginative ways than Michael."

Petra tsked. "Jane will not suck your dick again if you're mean to her husband," she said. 

Rafael kissed his way down her throat, and licked her collarbone. So what if that was a move he'd stolen from Michael. He wasn't around to complain. He was _miles_ away, doing some so-called important police work. "But you will, right?" he asked, and he tried his best to sound seductive and not plaintive.

"Yeah," she said, her body pliable under his hands, though he wasn't fooled. "Because I know you enough to realize it's just your special way to show affection." Rafael scoffed. "Jane knows, too, of course," she said, misinterpreting his scoff on purpose. "But she's nice enough to let you keep the rivalry alive, since it seems to work so well for you, sex-wise."

"The rivalry is very much alive," Rafael said. He had opened Petra's blouse and was making his way down to her breasts. "Just because Michael and I made out angrily once or twice-"

"- a day -"

"-does not mean that I am fine with him sharing my life, and my bed, and my girlfriends," Rafael said, and he tried his best to remain straight-faced. He knew he was fooling no one - knew his love-sick grin was obvious even as he hid it in Petra's cleavage - knew she was just riling him up, probably to get him to give her an orgasm or two before they were headed back home. 

He went down on his knees, figuring that Petra was probably missing Michael's tongue as much as he was. "Out to try to prove that one again, huh," she said, her fingers already grabbing his hair, even though he'd barely just gotten his fingers in her panties to tug them down. 

"I maintain that the oral sex competition jury panel was bribed," Rafael said, before licking a straight line on her lips. "I demand a recount," he added.

"Oh," she said, her hips bucking, her breath quickening. "Sure," she said, her voice all but certain. He loved her ruthlessness - loved how she never lost her cool in public - but he loved even more how he could drive her wild enough that her facade would slip, her voice wavering, her control gone, all because of him. "I'll talk to Jane about organising a - oh - second edition. As soon as Michael's home."

"Great," he said, and he looked up at her with that smile he knew would make her melt even further, though it sometimes had the unfortunate side-effect of also making her mad that she'd melted. "In that case, I'll better get some practice in." 

And he did.

\---

"Kel?" asked Mateo, at the breakfast table.

"Nope, just Daddy today," said Rafael, buttering his son's toast. 

"Pancakes," said Mateo sadly.

"I know, buddy. He'll be home soon."

"Do you want to put a sticker on the calendar, baby?" asked Jane, entering the room. She was putting on her earrings, and Rafael looked at her with relish, still hardly believing that he got to see her in the morning, every morning, though they'd all been sharing a house for almost a year now.

Mateo nodded, brightening, and Jane grabbed him, holding him up so he could place a chipmunk sticker on today's date. Jane then proceeded to count the days Michael had been gone, Mateo following along, though he faltered somewhere around seven. (Which was a depressingly long time before Jane was done.)

"Do you think there's a point in doing this kind of chart when we have no idea when his undercover mission is going to end?" asked Rafael. Mateo had settled in front of his toast and devoured it with an appetite that suggested it was an okay substitute to Michael's pancakes, at least.

Jane shrugged. "It's not like he can count to twenty-nine, anyway," she said. "It keeps his mind off of it."

"Poor kid," said Rafael. "All alone in the world, with only his two mommies and one daddy."

Jane raised an eyebrow, but seemed to decide against getting into the discussion again. (It was not a question of _quantity of parents_ but of _quality relationships_ with each of the adults in Mateo's life, and _evidently_ his relationship with Michael was terrific and necessary, and just because they had no _biological_ link- Rafael knew all the arguments, and agreed with them, and he rarely could bring himself to contradict Jane just for the fun of arguing. She was still the worrier amongst them, always careful not to bruise any egos in their delicate, easily breakable arrangement, and so riling her up never seemed to have the sexy effects it had on Michael or Petra. Not that Rafael thought much about the words "sexy" and "Michael" together, of course.)

"He'll be home soon," Jane said, mirroring Rafael's earlier words of reassurance at him. "I'm sure his mission is chugging along swimmingly."

"I know that," said Rafael, taken aback. "Do I look worried?" He was eating a full, healthy breakfast right this moment! He was very far from the forlorn lover who could not escape his bed because he missed his other half (his other quarter?) so much-

"Of course not," said Jane, and if she thought he missed the tiny rolling of her eyes, she was wrong. "We know you barely think about him, ever, and are just glad the ladies and kids of the house are now revolving around you and only you." She got up and cleared their plates.

"Damn straight," Rafael said.

"Damn staight," Mateo repeated, and Rafael covered his mouth in horror.

"Michael wouldn't have done that!" said Jane, from the kitchen.

\---

"Working out is boring," said Rafael, splaying down half on the floor and half on top of the stairs. The living room was small enough that Petra and Jane could both look down at him from the couch.

"Well, took you long enough to figure that out," said Jane, as Petra scoffed in agreement. 

"I don't get it," said Rafael. He'd been working out for most of his adult life, religiously lifting weights every morning, and it'd been fine all along. He even liked it most of the time. Worked wonders as a hangover cure. 

Petra and Jane looked at each other. "What?" he said, a little annoyed.

"I don't know," said Petra. "What is the _one_ thing that's been absent from your regular workout routine for the past, oh, six weeks?"

Rafael scoffed. "I suppose you don't want to hear about how I dropped circuit training to go back to sets and rests," he said.

"No, we're generally not big on you playing dumb," Jane agreed.

"It's not about Michael," Rafael said, annoyed. "I've worked out without him for years and it's always been fine. I am my own person."

"Of course you are," said Jane.

"Your own person who really likes ogling his boyfriend while he does chin-ups without a shirt on," said Petra.

"Your own person who ends up interrupting said boyfriend every other day because he just can't wait to taste his sweaty skin and run his fingers over those bulging muscles," said Jane.

"I-" Rafael said, then interrupted himself, defeated. "Michael interrupts me just as much," he said, like that was a defense.

"Are you okay, babe?" said Jane, sounding worried. "Do you want me to work out?"

"Ooh, can you do a chin-up?" asked Petra, putting her head in Jane's lap and looking up at her with interest.

"I think I can manage half a push-up. Or maybe a dozen if I can do them with my hands on the counter..."

Petra laughed and buried her face in Jane's thigh. They were beautiful, and hot, and probably about to get naked and do things to each other, and yet. Rafael still felt like something was missing from the tableau. God, something was badly wrong with him.

"I think I'll try the hotel gym," he said, throwing his hands in the air in disgust. 

"Wow, you really need those bulging muscles, huh," said Petra, who had progressed to kissing the inside of Jane's thigh.

"He'll be home soon," said Jane softly, and Rafael was annoyed at how hopeful that made him.

\---

Rafael was alone in the living room when he heard the front door unlock. He stood up in a hurry, then looked, disbelieving, as Michael entered the living room. He looked tired, his shirt rumpled and his hair sticking out, but it was Michael, and he was here.

"You're home," said Rafael, stupidly pointing out the obvious. 

"Yeah," said Michael, with a smile. He dropped his backpack on the floor. "I hoped to creep in someone's bed unnoticed; thought everyone would be asleep by now."

Rafael didn't tell him about how he'd had trouble sleeping for eight weeks now.

"You're home," he said again, instead.

Michael looked a little surprised, but then his smile softened. "I am."

Rafael looked at Michael, and looked at him again, like his eyes could not get enough of the sight of him after all that time. 

Michael took a step towards him. Rafael wanted to rush towards him, too, but his brain couldn't seem to get the update that there were now inches, instead of miles, between the two of them. So Michael walked one, two, three more steps, and then he stood right in front of him. "Hi," Michael said. He had to raise his head a little to look Rafael in the eyes.

Rafael opened his mouth, trying to say something like "welcome home," but Michael was faster, and he kissed him before he could get the words out. 

It unlocked something in Rafael - tasting Michael's mouth - feeling his body - and his brain finally caught up. He kissed Michael back ferociously, his hands on his neck, trying to get him closer, ever closer, trying to convince him to never leave again. He unbuttoned Michael's shirt, not wanting to waste a single second, because what if Michael had to leave again, what if he didn't spend every waking moment between now and that eventual departure worshipping Michael's body-

"I missed you so much," someone said, and Rafael thought it might have been him.

"Wow, I can see that," said Michael, and sure, Michael's hand was wrapped around Rafael's rock-hard dick, but Rafael had a sinking feeling that that was not what he was talking about - "I've been home for a whole, what, four minutes, and not a single insult thrown my way? I guess I could blame the lack of testosterone in the house for the past two months-"

Rafael kissed him again to shut him up. Michael smiled against his mouth even as he returned the kiss. They had managed to get naked, somehow, standing in the middle of the living room, and Rafael pushed Michael on the couch, lying half on top of him. Rafael grabbed the bottle of lube they hid somewhere in the cushions, and got to work, prepping Michael as carefully as he could, considering he was pretty sure he was going to die if he wasn't inside him in five seconds.

And then he pushed inside him, and he stopped breathing.

"God," said Michael. Rafael had stopped moving, just revelling in the feel of Michael, his ass so tight around his dick. "I've missed you, too," Michael said, finally, and Rafael smirked. Michael looked up at him, rising an eyebrow. "You said it first," he pointed out. "Next you're going to say that you loooooove me."

"You wish," said Rafael, and he thrust his hips again, feeling deep in his soul the joy that this weird dance - with banter, and fake hatred, and a lot of sex - could resume again, that he didn't have to try to keep it up without his partner anymore. Michael moaned, and Rafael sped up, and both of them came in an embarrassingly short time.

They lay down entangled for a long while after that, catching their breaths. "I do, though," said Michael, after a while. "Love you."

Rafael smiled, but didn't show it to him. Michael would have to be satisfied with his earlier admission. Well, maybe just this once- "Me too," he said, then he added, to lessen the impact, "even though you have no stamina."

"I lasted exactly as long as you," Michael pointed out, flicking Rafael's shoulder. 

"Yeah, but I have been having sex non-stop for the past eight weeks, trying to single-handedly satisfy your women," he said. 

Michael smiled. "I like how you said 'trying'. How are they?" he asked, looking towards the main bedroom. Rafael launched into detailed explanations of everyone's whereabouts, laying it on a bit thick about his own prowess in the bedroom, maybe, and omitting to mention that each woman had been letting him take them from behind without commenting about it, just to pally Michael's absence.

They tried to slip into their huge shared bed without waking up the girls, but of course they failed, and Rafael was pretty sure all sorts of very sexy things were happening in their three quarters of the bed, but before he knew it, he was slipping into sleep, blissful, restful sleep, safe in the knowledge that Michael was, finally, home.


End file.
